The furniture in the front room lay where the guards had kicked it aside, but it was the rust-red stains on the walls that caught my eye. I hadn’t expected the guards to attack. I’d been wrong, so wrong about so many things.
“Where’s the woman?”
I spun to find Anuska in the doorway. Her steel armor and white cloak sported new grazes and scuffs. Her hand trembled over the pommel of her sheathed sword. Soot darkened one cheek, and her tightly braided hair was matted, possibly with blood.
She saw my gaze flick to the nearest window. “I’m not going to arrest you.”
“Then why are you here?”
“It was the only place I could think to find you.” She relaxed her hand to her side. “Who was she?”
“A friend.”
“Do your friends usually slaughter a crowd of people?”
“That wasn’t her. You saw the mages—”
“Oh, I saw them. I also saw your woman return and cut through them as though they were nothing. Like a plague, she did not discriminate.”
How could I explain that the people in the crowd were mages. That, in all likelihood, somewhere deep inside, the captain herself was a mage. That the very people she protected were monsters. She would never believe me. I wasn’t even sure I believed it.
“Do you ever wonder about the wall?” I asked. “Why it’s built so high? Why we’re imprisoned inside?”
“We’re protected from those on the outside. That way of life—”
“I’ve seen life outside. I’ve lived it. And I agree, it’s far from perfect. On the surface, the Inner Circle looks like paradise, but the people outside, at least they’re free to do as they please. They can leave Brea whenever they want. It’s hard, but nobody said life was easy, did they?”
“What are you saying? That the wall is meaningless? That our laws are worthless?”
“No,” I said. “I’m telling you the wall, and the laws, are there to protect the people outside—from us.”
She laughed, but the sound was dry and fractured. “When they brought you in, I thought you’d have horror stories to tell, but I didn’t believe you’d be telling me that we are the horror in Brea. What happened to the boy who wanted to be a city guard, who loved the Inner Circle so much he sacrificed everything to keep its peace?”
“That boy died alongside his parents.” I righted a fallen chair as something to focus on besides her and the anger. Even after all this time, it burned bright and hot. Shaianna was right: I did cling to grief and rage and had for so long I wasn’t entirely sure there was any other way.
“Who is she, Vance?” Anuska asked, pulling me from my thoughts.
I straightened an ornamental clock on the mantelpiece, dislodging a small puff of dust. My mother had meticulously wound the clock every morning. I picked it up, gave the mechanism a few turns, and set it back down again. Dust muffled the tick-tock, but after seven years, it dutifully counted the seconds.
“She is shadow and dust,” I mumbled.
“It’s her, isn’t it?” Anuska’s plated armor clattered as she stepped into the room.
I kept her in the corner of my vision. “Who?”
“The Forgotten One.” Her hand hovered once more over her sword while she took a dagger from its sheath with her left hand. I instantly recognized the dazzling gem-studded hilt.
“I believe that dagger is mine.”
“We heard of the cup and its recent discovery. But I didn’t truly believe …” She came forward. Her sword rang as she pulled it free of its scabbard. “I didn’t have faith. Our history was written so long ago, but it’s all so clear now.”
I lifted my hands, moving away from the fireplace toward the window. “I’m glad someone thinks so. Perhaps you could enlighten me, because I seem to be the only one who’s still in the dark.”
Her smile was as dry as her laugh had been. “And you always will be if she has her way. You would have made a fine guard, Vance.”
“Those things, those mages, they’re Inner Circle people twisted by magic.” She didn’t react. Not even a blink. She knew. “Is that why you burn them?”
“Their numbers increase despite our best efforts. For those kept in the spire, it is too late. But there is a purpose for those poor souls. For others, those who show signs … we quell our ugly.”
Those stoic faces in the crowd would have watched me burn, and nobody would have said a word, because they all knew. I wondered if my parents had deliberately lied to my sister and me?
“You are all monsters,” I told her.
“You would like to think so. She has her claws deep in you. How did she trick you? Did she offer you riches? Eternal life? Whatever it was, you’ll not get it. She is a creature of deception.”
I stepped again toward the window as Anuska sidestepped around the fallen furniture, both blades out. The High Guard never exposed a blade unless they intended to use it.
“The only deal I accepted was the one to free me of a bond.”
Anuska’s smile stretched wide, revealing perfect white teeth. “Free you?” She shook her head. “I’m sorry to tell you there will be no freedom for the likes of those who work alongside the Forgotten One—unless you submit to me here. I can free you, Curtis Vance.” She lifted the dagger. “It’s a mercy, really. Make your final sacrifice, and it will all be over. You’ll be a hero. Isn’t that what you wanted as a boy? To protect the city you loved?”
“I’m done making sacrifices for lies.”
She stilled. “You’re trouble, Vance. The Circle is too fragile. I can’t let you leave to spread discontent. It must end here.”
I had the window at my back. “Why does it have to end at all? I don’t want to hurt you over twisted beliefs.”
“Nor I you. But there is no choice here. The mark, your companion. You must die—if not by fire, then by steel.” She lunged.
I veered left, light on my feet, and dodged her sword thrust. She expected me to go for the window and had lined herself up to block me, but I feinted and dove in, tackling her around the waist. I hit hard, but not hard enough. She stood her ground and cracked her pommel between my shoulders, almost dropping me to my knees. I clamped onto her and blocked her dagger strike with my forearm, sending the blade upward. She staggered back and fell against the chair, but she used the space to draw her sword arm back. I sprang and locked my hand around her throat.
“I don’t want this,” I hissed.
She glared, teeth gritted. Unwavering dedication to her cause burned hot in her icy blue eyes. She would kill me.
I tightened my grip, muscles trembling. “I’m sorry, I am …”
She kicked and bucked, but the combined weight of me and her armor pinned her.
“It didn’t have to be like this.”
Her fanatical glare dulled. Her thrashing slowed. And her expression dissolved with the realization that it was over for her.
I let go.
She gasped and clawed at her neck, gulping down air.
I tore the dagger from her loose fingers and backed away. “Don’t come looking for me. Let this crusade of yours rest here.”
Her mouth moved. She groped for her sword and tried to advance, but a coughing fit doubled her over.
I left her there and took to the rooftops before she could track me. Ahead, the ice-caked spire shone like a sword pointed high at the pale blue winter sky. In all the captain’s ramblings, some things had made sense. Anuska had told me where the mages were: in the spire, at the heart of the Inner Circle. If we wanted to retrieve the Eye, we would have to go into the nest.
I dropped in through the hayloft’s loading door. Shaianna stood at the back of the loft, hands at her sides, peering straight through me. I tossed her a stolen apple. She snatched it out of the air and continued scowling. “I know where the mages are,” I told her.
“Where did you go?”
“They’re kept in the spire.” I showed her the dagger, now back in my possession, but her scowl was carved deep. I tucked the dagger
against my back and bit into my apple, watching her watching me as I chewed. “The guard also admitted to knowing the mages are magic-corrupted Inner Circle people. Maybe everyone here knows, or maybe just a select few. Maybe I just didn’t stick around long enough for them to tell me the truth.”
“Where did you go?” she asked again, this time with more conviction.
“Home.” Crunching into another bite of apple, I curiously noted her rigid stance. “I went home. Why?”
Her eyes flicked to the loading door. “There was nothing there for you, was there? Just useless memories.”
The same useless memories as those she had witnessed in her ruins. “But I had to see it all the same.”
“To remind yourself of where you come from?” She tilted her head, scrutinizing me and my thoughts. “I understand, but it is dangerous here for you.”
My lips twitched. “It’s dangerous everywhere.” It wasn’t concern in her eyes. Anger, possibly. Frustration, definitely. “The bond,” I began. “It’s not gone, is it?”
She blinked, her expression schooled.
“A mage tried to gut me. I got caught bleeding out on a whorehouse floor. I survived when I shouldn’t have. What did you do to me in that tomb? What was that ritual with the dagger and the cup?”
“When I asked you to drink from the cup, we were tethered and I was weak. I needed your help to ground myself in this place and time. What you saw in the tomb, what I did …” She stopped, but from her shifting gaze, I could tell she wasn’t finished.
“I have a mark on my back, Shaianna. You branded me. Captain Anuska condemned me as a magic user because of it. You almost got me killed.”
Her gaze went to the door again. She was lying, or at least avoiding the whole truth. “It won’t hurt you. It’s protection.”
“Protection like the knot on the mage you killed in my loft?”
“Would you have rather died on that whorehouse floor?” There, a spark of anger hardened her eyes. I was wearing her down.
“I’d rather you tell me the truth.”
“I would never hurt you, Curtis. Without you, I wouldn’t be here. You’ve become”—she frowned—“integral. I’m just attempting to keep you safe.”
“I’ve survived twenty-two years just fine without a sorceress’s brand.”
“You’ve nearly died several times since we—”
“Because of your meddling.” I sighed, too tired to argue. “I’m going to spend the day navigating the roofs around the spire to see if I can find a way inside. We’ll breach it tonight.”
“No.”
“No?”
“I will retrieve the Eye,” she said, as though her words alone could stop me. “You’ve done enough.” Her fingers twitched over her dagger. She was expecting me to fight her and had been since I returned.
I crunched into my apple, enjoying its sweetness, while she held hers as tightly as she held her dagger. “You’re not just going to waltz into the spire, are you?” I asked. “You don’t know how many mages are in there. It could be thousands. Sounds as though they’ve been collecting them.”
“That is why you are staying here.”
“I’m not staying anywhere. You’re not in Arach anymore, princess. As much as I hate this city, it’s my home. These are my people. Besides, you’re one of a kind. The Forgotten One. It’d be a shame if you died.”
She flinched at the name. “What else did she tell you? This guard?”
“The same nonsense the rest of them have been spouting since they learned I was bound to you. You’re dangerous.” I waved my apple, searching for the right word. “A revered harbinger of doom. You have many names, princess. Shadow, Forgotten One, one even called you The Truth In The Lies. They all believe I’m the fool you have wrapped around your little finger.” I took another bite of my apple and nonchalantly chewed. “Anuska said you’re a liar. She said you didn’t go back to save the people last night. You went back to kill them.”
“Do you believe her?”
“Eat your apple.”
“Do you believe her words, thief?”
I admired my half-eaten apple and watched her out of the corner of my eye, taking my time answering. There was more happening here, some kind of silent battle between what I knew of the truth and what she had yet to tell me.
“What would you have me believe?” I asked. Her frown tugged on my heart, more than it should have. She cared for my answer, probably more than she cared for her cup, or perhaps even the Eye. “I believe what my senses tell me, isn’t that what you say? I believe you’re all those things. You’ve told me the same. You speak of revenge and grief; I know those things well enough to recognize them in others. You have quite the reputation, but like the many artifacts I’ve stolen, these types of embellishments are rarely true. I believe what I’ve seen.” I bowed my head, remembering how the water had streamed down her back, and how she had lifted her hands to the waterfall and laughed, and how she’d danced at the festival for no other reason than because she could. “You are the things they say, but that is not all you are, is it?” I’d seen her cry over fallen ruins and seen her wrath strike fast and true. I believed the mages, I believed her, and I believed in what my instincts told me. “What do you plan to do with the Eye, Shaianna?”
“It is a relic, as am I. It does not belong here.”
She hadn’t answered my question. “Once we have it, will you destroy it?”
She wet her lips and lifted her apple. “Some things should be destroyed, don’t you think?” She took a firm and precise bite.
“Or perhaps we should bury it again,” I said carefully. “Let it be forgotten until a better time when the Eye might be … appreciated.”
“Why wait? Perhaps we should use it.” She smiled. “To create a better time today?”
“Perhaps …” I mirrored her smile, as thin as it was.
“Then you’ll stay here while I retrieve it?”
“Yes,” I lied like the good little foolish thief everyone believed I was.
Her next bite of her apple revealed a rotten core.
Chapter Eighteen
I spent much of the morning traversing the city rooftops in my search of the spire’s entrances and found only one, hidden down a set of street-level steps and flanked by two guards. The guards wouldn’t be a problem for Shaianna. She would cut through them, dagger flashing. But since I didn’t want any unnecessary deaths on my hands and I planned to get inside without Shaianna knowing, I would have to lure the guards from their posts.
The spire consisted of at least eight hundred feet of limestone. It shone in direct sunlight like a lighthouse. The stones had been polished smooth, so I couldn’t scale it, and it didn’t have a single window. I’d always assumed it was solid, but now I knew—like the rest of the Inner Circle—it was another prison.
I settled on a nearby roof and watched the Inner Circle people go about their routines, not dissimilar to the Outer Circle folk, only here they did it with polite smiles and gracious gestures. Their widespread politeness and apparent goodwill made the dark truth all the uglier. Did they all know what they truly were, what they harbored inside, or was it just a select few? Or perhaps they were so enamored with the reality fed to them that they couldn’t see the truth, even with it right before their eyes. Captain Anuska had called magic a disease. The propaganda fed to these people supported that. They might not wear obvious shackles, but these people were chained by rituals and rules. May the fire cleanse your soul.
I would be free of it soon enough. To be free, I had to devise a way to get past the wall. That too shone bright white against the sprawling backdrop of the Outer Circle with its patchwork of cottages, townhouses, and shantytowns. I’d killed the guards at the gate the first time I escaped with my sister in tow—the anger and fear driving me blindly on. Their armor and complacency had made them slow and unprepared for a terrified but well-trained boy and his sister. This time, Anuska would have told the guards to expect me.
&
nbsp; Someone had been sending mages beyond the wall in search of the cup and the Eye. I doubted whoever it was paraded the mages through the main gate, so there had to be another way to get beyond the wall—underground, perhaps, likely from inside the spire.
The sun rode across the sky, the hours passing quickly as I ambled along the roof ridges. I could have returned to the hayloft. Shaianna had probably left, but if she hadn’t, I didn’t entirely trust myself around her. Anuska’s words and the numerous other warnings gnawed on my faith. I knew exactly what she was capable of. She had never lied or pretended to be anything else, but there was a side to her that she refused to reveal—the guarded side—and that was the most dangerous thing about her. The laughing woman, the assassin, the sorceress—I knew they were all her, but there was more she wasn’t telling me. I should have moved on and forgotten her—as best as someone as memorable as Shaianna could be forgotten. The Forgotten One. She was the shadow on the wall, and not for the likes of me.
I steered my rooftop wandering toward the square, where I should have burned on the pyre, and crouched down on a ridge tile. Scorch marks blackened the street, but the ashes had been swept up and cleared away. No bodies. No grieving relatives. If people had died, as Anuska had suggested, surely there would have been more proof?
Shaianna had saved my life, but she was also at the heart of everything trying to kill me. Should I trust her or walk away?
She wouldn’t allow me to sell the Eye. I wasn’t even sure I should. A good man would bury the gem, or take a ship out of the bay and toss it overboard. I could pretend I was a good man, but I needed to eat and I needed a roof over my head. I’d spent enough time on the street to know I didn’t ever want to be homeless and hungry again. I had to sell it. Men like Fallford could squabble over the Eye’s magical worth and its destiny. And Shaianna—well maybe once the Eye had been dealt with, we would go our separate ways as we had after Arach.
But there was a problem with that outcome: I didn’t want her to go. What I wanted was to know the real her, just once, if she would let me. I would like to laugh with her and forget who we were, forget whatever we were supposed to do, forget about the Eye, the tomb, our pasts, and just be … real. I’d like her to be the truth in the lies. I wanted to trust her. It appeared I wanted many things, but I had yet to learn what it was she wanted.
The Heartstone Thief (Dragon Eye Chronicles Book 1) Page 16